Mist in the Forbidden Forest
by Lovelybonesjacs
Summary: A girl walking through the Forbidden Forest comes upon a werewolf. Remus Lupin/ OFC
1. Chapter 1

The forest was warmer than the December air should have allowed. The trees covering the view of the early morning sky kept in the strange magical heat the forest seemed to emit. The grey light of dawn left shadows across slashes of undergrowth and faint noises could be heard between the thick trunks. The Forbidden Forest had a place of mystery but in the morning, it was a place of peace and freshness.

The same could not be said of the shadowed figure wandering silently through the grass and shrubs. Unless close, it was impossible to see any of the details on the figure except their legs walking in exhausted shambles. Up close, however, much more was revealed.

It was a girl. She would have had a lithe build, but it was obvious that she was lacking in food as her thin frame was poking out through the ragged cloak and trousers she wore. Her shoeless feet were caked in dirt and made no sound as she ambled forward. Had one been closer, her face would have come into view. She had a tear-shaped face, with slightly higher cheekbones, cast into sharp relief against her malnourished face. She was very pale, though her eyes were a startling grey, almost to the point of being burnt silver color. A small nose dripping with blood, which was clotting slowly in the chill of the morning, completed her ensemble.

The most defining characteristic was her long scraggly which lay braided down her back, was an ethereal white. It would have glowed with a grey, light falling her back and lightly floating in the wind had she not kept it tied and dirty.

She walked alone, listening to the sounds of the forest around her. She did know where she was. She'd been familiar with the place... Once, a long time ago. Honestly, she didn't know why she'd returned. Her memories of the place were not as memorable as other places she'd stayed.

London had been one of the busiest, along with Dublin and Rennes. Each had their own charms and histories which she'd enjoyed being a part of. Dublin's Viking culture had been fascinating, and she's loved drinking and celebrating with the rowdy crowds. It was easy to slip in and out of places when everyone was too inhibited to notice a difference between her and anyone else.

Looking back, she supposed walking mindlessly, she chose the forest because of how unmemorable it was. When she had last been here, it had been a foreboding place. The clans living among the dense trees had not been kind to her, so she had avoided them as best she could. Which was pretty well considering she lived above them in the trees. She could remember looking down at the small groups surrounding fires, cheering themselves for some victory against another.

She.. she was exhausted. It had been so long that she'd been alone among the crowds. It was almost worse than being alone by herself. At least then it was her own choice, or at least she could blame it on being her own choice rather than her own choice to be miserable in cities where she knew she COULD have connected to at least someone. She slumped her shoulders, singing. She loved the peace and quiet of the mornings though. She felt as if she walked through the veil. It was the one time where her loneliness was.. Lessened.

And then she heard the groaning. For the first time in.. well years, the girl stopped dead in her tracks. It felt as though she wanted... No needed, to go to the groaning and stop them from hurting. To somehow lessen the pain. But, why? This forest was full of haunting and unnatural sounds. Painful moans were no different. So why did she...

Then she heard a whimper.

Head snapping up, she tilted her head and listened more intently. This was a sound of agony and under it... Was that? Bones snapping?

She looked up through light filtering through the undergrowth. The moon would be full tomorrow. She made a quiet noise of understanding. A werewolf was shifting back into their human form.

"Poor sap," she thought to herself. She shook her head to clear it and was about to continue her walk away from the noise. Really, it wasn't any of her business, they seemed like they had it under control. It was their own body after all but then she stopped. The sound of muffled sobs reached her. She blinked. The sound made her think of...

_Sobbing men in chiffons leaning on their comrades, both covered in blood, looking at their fallen friends and family on the battlefield._

_Children hugging their knees to their chests and keening alone in bed as the sounds of cannons filled the air. _

_The scream of Ronec as he found his family, lying in pools of their dark blood on the floor of their rooms, looking to her with so much rage in his eyes. Crying through his words, "You could have-"_

_The rattling of gunshots as men screamed and nurses sprinted from corpse to corpse. Blood splattering on their white-robes but not on white hair._

NO! She gasped in a breath, realizing shed stopped breathing and had frozen in place during the onslaught of memory.  
She leaned against a nearby tree, trying not to slide down the bark as she shook. It was not her job to help this person. She had nothing to gain from it. No reason to assist them during this time. She couldn't help them! She'd just make things worse! She couldn't make their lives even more miserable.

_Cant? Or won't? _Whispered her traitorous thoughts. _Wasn't it that which brought you these feelings to begin with? The loss? The loneliness? Don't you think that speaking to anyone might help lessen this ache? _There was a sharp tug under her ribcage as if she was being hooked through the chest to go in that direction. _Traitorous body, just leave it! I won't! Even if I did go look at what would come of it? Well.. if nothing would come of it, I suppose... No! I shouldn't!_

She was pulled from this internal conflict by hearing the quiet crying once again. She wanted to punch a tree. And then herself. She couldn't let this go. She hadn't felt anything in a long time. Never mind something like this. And, making what she hoped wasn't a mistake, she began to slowly move towards the crying.


	2. Chapter 2

_This is a daft idea_ her inner monologue noted, as she stepped closer, stopping yet again as she took in a deep breath. She could talk to people. She knew how logically. It was just like talking to yourself, just with more consequences.

_Gods, its as if you've never met a wolf before _she chided herself harshly. _Besides, they're alone in the forest just after a change. That's the most vulnerable they can be. The wolf must be going mad with worry. If you don't relax, it won't matter how tired this made them, you will be faced with a dangerous creature. So, calm down and go see. _

As she neared closer, she heard a sharp intake of breath.

"Whos there?" whispered a male's voice, and she heard scrambling a short distance ahead of her. Sounds of hyperventilating came to her ears. _He's terrified _her mind whispered, _calm him. _

"Please," she said, quietly, rounding the corner and coming into view, "I heard you crying. I don't want to hurt you, I just want to help." Her voice sounded rough from disuse. _Well, that certainly won't win you any favors if you sound like some mad woman._ Her hands raised peacefully, she came closer. Slowly stopping, so as not to frighten the wolf inside, she sat a short distance away from him, thinking passively how hesitant she sounded, and how hesitant she looked.

The man- no, the boy in front of her seemed to be about 16 years old. He looked almost as dirty as she was though, it was probably due to the change wreaking havoc on his body. He had hazel eyes, looking exhausted and sunken in his face, but looking as startled as she'd seen in a long time. He had light brown hair and scars on his face,

_Cursed scars, from the wolf who did it to him. Old ones by the look of it. Oh, poor guy... _She thought to herself.

Looking closer, she was confused. Was he sunburnt? In December?

Wait. No, he was.. Blushing? Why was he blushing so much? It was then she realized that werewolves don't bring their clothes with them through the change.

"Oh!" She exclaimed quietly, "I- I didn't realize you don't bring your clothes with you through the change, I'm sorry!" She stuttered, removing her cloak from herself and leaning over to hand it to him. The chill in the air never reached her, though her thin shirt and trousers flapped in the breeze.

He looked at her like she'd grown a second head. Or maybe a third.

"I promise it's not cursed?" She smiled quietly.

He took a deep breath, swallowed, leaned over, and quickly snatched the cloak from her, pulling it over himself. He blinked a few times, still looking at her. She smiled at him again and leaned back against a tree. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out. He simply continued to look at her, bemusement clear on his face. As she was used to silence, it didn't bother her, and she linked her hands together to rest on her knees.

For a while the two sat like that, her not minding the silence between them and simply looking at the grey light through the trees.

"Why.." He started, but trailed off, unsure how he wanted to continue, "Why are you here?"

"I live here," she shrugged. "I was walking and heard you shift back. I came to see if you were alright."

"Live here? In the forest?" He exclaimed, "Don't you know it's dangerous!"

She tilted her head, "I do. There are centaurs, acromantulas, and," she met his eyes, hers sparkling with slight humor, "the occasional werewolf, apparently."

He opened his mouth, then closed it, looking away as if ashamed. Then with furrowed brows, he asked, "How did you know I was.." He looked away, "Shifting back."

She pointed upwards, "I don't hear crying out here unless it's for detention or a dare, and it's too early for both. Also its a day after the full moon."

"Oh."

Another pause. She knew that this was a highly unusual situation in many respects, and then realized it was up to her to make him feel at least a semblance of comfort in this situation. She didn't exactly look rational, shoe-less and ragged in more ways than one.

"I know you're tired," She started, trying to fill the emptiness with something that made sense, "And I know that you don't have any reason to trust me. But I'm harmless." She cracked what she hoped was a small smile. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

He looked at her, unable to hold back a small quirk of his eyebrow.

"Well, I know you aren't, I know the curse makes all your bones break in horrible ways and feels like fire under your skin and you lose your human mind," Her eyes widened as she kept on rambling, yet unable to stop, "Wait, I mean I know you're not fine, and-" She scrubbed a filthy palm over her face, stopping the words by force. "Morgana save me, I'm sorry, I just mean to say I wanted to see if I could help."

"Well, yeah," he mumbled, looking at her, "It does feel an awful lot like that, I suppose?" He almost smiled at her look of absolute mortification at her blundering words. "And thank you." He continued quieter, "For coming to see. Most reasonable people would run away as soon as they realized... what I am." He dropped off, looking down.

_I almost did, _her internal monologue replied accursedly. _Like a bloody coward. He's just a boy. An (almost but not quite) helpless boy. And you were about to treat him like the monster he thinks himself as. _

Trying to ease the tension he felt, she uncrossed her legs and wiggled her toes.

"Me? reasonable?" And he laughed!

It was a grating sound, likely from the screaming from his change, but she could tell that it was melodious and deep. It loosened something inside of her. Slightly. She let herself smile at him as he regained his composure.

Before he could ask why she had none one her feet, she tilted her head.

"What's your name?" She asked, crossing her legs in front of her, soles of her bare feet pointing towards him. He looked apprehensive at her, biting his lip and slumping his shoulders and twisting the edge of her cloak between his long fingers, which at the moment were as dirty as her feet.

"Its Remus." He hesitated as if debating his last name was worth telling her.

_Something to do with his family. He's ashamed of them? Ahhh that's the reason he's here over the school holidays? _

"You don't need to tell me your last name it's okay." She said, and then reached out her own arm,

"Hello Remus, my name is Branwen. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Again, he looked at her like she had 3 heads, but tentatively reached out and shook her hand


	3. Chapter 3

They sat there for at least an hour or two as the sun slowly rose into the skyline. The boy seemed to be too exhausted to even move, having slowly curled himself into a ball beneath the cloak. The light illuminated more of both of them and both looked much worse for wear than previously believed. Branwen was stiff, and though the cold still didn't affect her, she wasn't used to sitting in one spot for so long. Some of her hair had come loose from the braid and now hung in limp strands about her face. She was hungry too, she realized, her stomach having cramped to the point of pain. Her trousers were older than she cared to remember, the same with her long tunic, both ripped and muddy from lack of general care.

Looking to Remus, he looked more comfortable than he had previously, and in less pain which made her glad. The dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced, however, and she was surprised he hadn't fallen asleep while the two of them spoke quietly.

They talked about superficial things. He normally stayed in the shack outside the grounds of the small town next to the school, though somehow he had gotten out the last night and ended up in the forest. The boy was obviously terrified that he had hurt someone or something, though he hadn't told her that. It was clear that he was afraid, both of himself and for Branwen, as he kept himself closed off from her, not reaching out.

He was a Griffindor, whatever that meant. She assumed it had something to do with the school. She knew very little about Hogwarts, other than when it was built and by whom.

Branwen tucked her knees under her chin and crossed her arms across them before speaking again.

"Why are you out here all alone, during a full moon, when school is out? Like you said before, it is dangerous. Even if you are a werewolf." She considered, "Especially if you're a werewolf. The centaurs don't mind but I know the acromantulas do."

Remus sighed a resigned sound.

"I stay at the castle over yuletide holidays. My.. parents don't want to be around me any more than they have to be."

Branwen felt the embers of rage in her chest and grit her teeth, but said nothing as he continued.

"Headmaster Dumbledore usually has the Shrieking Shack secured for me to shift safely in. That's where I normally stay, it's just outside of Hogsmeade." His eyes flicked to her and she nodded in understanding. She was familiar with the shack. Though she'd heard the rumors of howls there, she had only been back in this area for a few weeks.

_He must have been going there for years for it to garner a reputation as haunted. I bet this Dumbledore fellow provided it for him once he came to the school. That's the only safe place to shift around the castle. If he had always shifted here something would have gotten to him. He would be dead otherwise. _She mused silently.

"I could stay contained with the potion. The wolfsbane potion I mean," He said clarifying, "But the potioneer who makes it normally got raided en route to the castle." Dejectedly, he added, "It was by His followers."

Oh, so that was why the wards were stronger and there was more security around the grounds. Branwen had felt the wards shimmering around her with more of a zing compared to when they were placed the last passed through by here. She'd heard whispers around the trees, by the centaurs and the trolls, that they'd both been approached by this Dark Lord. The trolls had been seriously considering, they had been promised free hunting from muggle populations in the countrysides and a large portion of the forest. The centaurs had simply ignored the man's followers and taken to secluding themselves even more. The stars, apparently, were not on this man's side. Branwen had been allowed to stay with the centaurs for a week or two on her arrival into the forest, which was when she heard this.

Remus continued, "After I Shifted, I must have gotten loose somehow. Apparently, find me out here." He waved his arms vaguely. He looked as if he was about to cry again when he looked back at her, "What if I've hurt someone? What if-" He stopped short, shaking slightly, "What if I killed someone?" he finished in a whisper.

Branwen was shocked. She'd known that he was a gentle soul, she could feel that just by looking at him. And, during their conversations over the last few hours, shed garnered that he cared deeply for his friends and school. He was kind and intelligent and soft-spoken. And gods be damned if she wasn't going to at least try and assuage his fear.

She took a deep breath and looked at him with a gentle expression.

"You didn't kill anyone. I promise you that."

He looked at her with disbelief, clenching his fists, "You can't know that! I'm a bloody werewolf! I am cursed to be violent, to kill and maim and pass on this awful disease! I hurt everyone! So even if I did get through last night SOMEHOW holding back, I still have 2 more!" He exploded, and then as if a bucket of cold water hit him he deflated, saying, "Oh god 2 more nights. I-"

"Stop," Branwen commanded. "I do know you haven't killed anyone. I would have been able to tell. It would hang around your soul like a cloud, and you have one of the clearest souls I have seen in a Long. Time."

He looked at her in confusion, uncomprehending. He opened his mouth to respond, but Branwen cut him off with a gentle hand raise.

"And tomorrow and the next I will stay and help you."

At that, he nearly leaped to his feet, stopped only by the cloak still around him,

"Are you kidding me?! Absolutely not! I won't risk hurting anyone, never mind you!" Branwen's eyebrow quirked in confusion at that, but her expression cleared too fast for Remus to notice in his incensed state.

"Besides that, how can you tell how 'clean' a soul is? That is impossible magic, you don't even have a wand!"

Branwen pursed her lips, internally warring with herself. She hadn't told anyone about herself in years. Many years. The last time still haunted her, but, for some unfathomable reason, she felt as though she could tell Remus anything. Some part of her, the same part where she had felt the tug warmed at the thought of telling him, it elt like security. And she felt that she could. She could get over her fears if there was the possibility that she could help him tomorrow and the next night.

She HAD to tell him, to soothe him and make him sure of his own merits and goodness. She put that need on the backburner to sort out later, it was a foreign sensation she would analyze later.

"Remus. Remus! Stop! Listen to me!" She raised her voice, and he stopped. Her voice, always quiet, had now become almost enchanted as she put force behind it. He swallowed and raised his eyes to hers. Her grey eyes had a ring of... Silver around them, almost glowing? Remus blinked, trying to clear his eyes, and it was gone. Before he had time to think about it, she said, much quieter and with a look of barely concealed fear,

"You're not the only cursed one here, Remus. I can see souls and death." He started and then stilled. There wasn't fear on his face so much as… entrancement? Looking away to gather courage as Remus looked on in confusion,

"I'm a Banshee."


	4. Chapter 4

Dumbledore looked at the two individuals sitting before him with barely concealed amazement. No, he mused, looking back and forth between the two of them. He was looking at them with plain astonishment.  
It had been a strange morning, to say the least.

Dumbledore had been in the midst of writing a letter to Kinglsey about his plans in the Andes to attract the rogue dementors who had been terrorizing the villages there on Tom's orders. Midway through the draft, there had been a rapid knock at his door, and opening it, he saw Minerva standing pale in the doorway. He looked up sharply, concerned as to how she had become so concerned.

"Albus. You need to hear this," she said very plainly and with a pointed look in his direction.

The headmaster beckoned his old friend into the room. Mr. Lupin entered, followed by an unfamiliar figure. The temperature in the room fluctuated briefly, turning quite cold. Remus, Albus noted, held himself ramrod straight, and the headmaster studied him.

He looked... different. Normally, after the first night, he looked almost as bad as he did the last. This morning, however, Remus had color in his normally pallid cheeks. His back seemed straighter somehow and his movements less pained than they would have been this time last month.

He had gone the night without the potion, something that Dumbledore knew must have been agonizing, both for body and spirit of the boy.  
And yet he seemed very purposeful as he strode into the office. He was wearing his school robes, though he still looked dirty and worn. Looking past him, the headmaster gazed at the girl behind him.

Her hair, now clean, had been pulled up into a knot, accentuating her face and especially her eyes. She was wearing nondescript school robes, without a house mark on them. This was surprising considering she was surrounded by Gryffindors. Her clothes underneath were far too large for her thin frame as they all hung off her like a clothesline. She looked out of place, shoeless and sockless feet making no sound on the stone floor. She didn't even look cold, though there was a chilly breeze in the room. Her skin was pale and it almost glowed with internal light.  
This made his heart stop. He would recognize the silver aura anywhere.

Entering the headmaster's study, Branwen took a deep breath and met blue eyes. The old man's eyes were full of shock, and really, she couldn't blame him. The banshee race had long since become a myth among even the most learned scholars. They had not been a people known for their interactions within society. They only came out in times of danger and despair, as obvious as their nature made it sound, and for such a creature of legend to come into a school would have had a visceral impact on any sane individual.

_Though from what I've heard of this man, sane might not be the reason he looks so floored... _She mused, silently following Remus to the seats in the office.

The office was filled to the brim with objects. Mostly magical in nature, books, tomes, scrolls, and other pieces of parchment lay haphazardly about one another. A large circular platform held a massive telescope and through the windows at the top of the ceiling, it was possible to see the hint of a blue sky. One thing, in particular, caught her eye though.  
To the right of the headmaster's desk sat a large stand, with a golden crossbar. On top of the crossbar sat a phoenix. With vibrant red and gold feathers, flames danced and sparkled from its body, and bright black eyes met hers in an instant.

Branwen felt a start of joy just before the bird's wings flashed open. Beak opening wide, a song of gutwrenching loss and redemption filled the room. All four individuals stopped dead, listening to the haunting melody the bird was singing.  
Branwen felt her eyes flutter closed and the waves of sound lapped over her like easy waves on the beach.

Just as the sound began to fade, Branwen felt a push on her Occlumency shields. Letting it in, she heard a deep and echoing voice.

_Hello Old one, welcome back. I have been waiting for you. _

Her eyes flashed molten beneath her lids, her world tilting.

_Fawkes? You... I haven't seen you since I was but a young chick myself, do I look as I did then? Besides, if anyone here is old, it is you, my feathered friend. _She maintained a straight face as her internal dialogue laughed.

_You have a point, _the bird conceded, preening his chest feathers, _though I suppose the same could be said for us, in our own ways. Now, we will speak later. The wise one will suspect if we do not cease. _

Once the song had finished, Remus looked to Branwen and sat on one of the seats across from the headmaster. Sitting in the other provided chair, Branwen looked into the twinkling blue eyes. They seemed to try and pierce her soul, but she merely blinked black at him.

As she did so, she could feel the prickling of his legimency on her shields. He was incredibly subtle and delicate; most would find him very hard to deflect, but Branwen took no heed. Softly she stopped his advances with a gentle nudge.

_With all due respect Dumbledore, hasn't anyone ever told you that it isn't polite to look into someone's mind without permission? We haven't even been properly introduced. _

She could feel his surprise, even as his face remained impassive.

_I… I apologize. I simply-_

_I know what you were intending to do. _She imperceptibly raised a brow. Haven't _you learned to trust your feathered friend? _

Fawkes burbled out something similar to a grumble at this, preening himself in rebellion.

_I do understand why you're hesitant. I would be as well. I will explain but now is not the time. _Branwen allowed a hint of silver into her eyes to strengthen the resolve she showed.

_I will promise you that I am NOT my grandmother. For the moment though, that will have to be enough. _

Looking somewhat appeased, the headmaster faintly nodded and sat back in his chair.

Dumbledore looked at Remus, who looked as though he was coming to a startling realization from the song of Fawkes.

"Mr. Lupin. Please, enlighten me why it is you have found and brought a Banshee to our school?" the headmaster asked.

Remus was startled into focus once again. At this point, he was going to get whiplash from the number of times his brain had been whipped back and forth today.

Looking from Branwen to the Headmaster, it was easy to see that the two of them were in a standoff of sorts. Dumbledore trying to break through her exterior. Branwen sitting like a stone in a babbling brook. Nothing seemed to phase her, least of all the old man pointing out her nature as though it were as obvious to him as it would be a child.

"Um.," he mumbled, suddenly very unsure of himself. He had heard of the banshee race before. In old tomes and books about dark magical creatures, most of which he had come across through looking up his own condition. He had read that they were Death's creatures. Dark hags who stole life and drank it for fun, appearing only when death was imminent and plentiful. But when he looked to Branwen, he felt only peace and warmth and calm. Something foreign to him. Especially now that he knew she knew he was a werewolf. He also was not yet dead, which, he supposed, had to mean something if the banshee were as powerful as he had thought. But, he mused, it wasn't as if she could claim any moral high ground if she did turn anything against him.

Though, he somehow knew that she wouldn't hurt him with this knowledge. She almost couldn't. He didn't know how he knew that and yet he did. _I'll think more about that later, _he mused.

"She found me in the forest sir." Remus said quietly, "I had just finished shifting back. I had.." he twisted his hands in his lap, "I'd escaped the shack somehow and made my way into the forest. I heard something shifting in the trees, coming close to me and I got frightened. I don't know what happened but next thing I knew she was coming around a tree offering me a cloak."  
With courage he didn't know he had, he looked the headmaster in the eyes, "She's been living in the forest for weeks sir! I know that shes a banshee, she told me." At this, the older man raised an eyebrow at the girl. Branwen simply stared back at him, and then looked to Remus. She trusted him to know what he was doing, even if he could see the confusion in her eyes as to why he was attempting to stand up for her.  
"She needs a safe place to stay sir. We can't just let her live alone in the forest. It's far too dangerous and it just isn't the right thing to do. If the school can accept me, it had damn well accept her as well." He finished, gritting his teeth at the rebuttal he felt coming.

It took a lot to shock Dumbledore. It took more to shock Branwen. And yet both were speechless at this admission of weakness and strength of character from Remus Lupin. Branwen had never, not once in her long life, been vouched for by someone. Especially not someone who she had known for such a short time.

Dumbledore was shocked that this incredibly intelligent student didn't know the severity of his emotions concerning the being in front of him. Not that the man would tell him, it was certainly not his place to say anything in this case. He wouldn't meddle in this kind of situation. It also didn't help that the boy was right. In so far as he knew. If the school would accept a werewolf, it should also accept another pure person, and this girl was as pure as they came. Even if she didn't know it yet.  
Fawkes didn't sing for just anyone.


	5. Chapter 5

**NOTE: **Hi! This is my first story, I know I should have explained this at the start of the story but, we learn as we go I think.

This will be a story between one of my OC's in the Harry Potter universe, one of too many probably, and will be between her and Remus Lupin. I haven't decided if it will include other pairings yet, but I have a few ideas in the works! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what I can do to make it better!

After Remus had been dismissed and sent into the hall with McGonagall, Branwen and the headmaster were left alone in the office. Branwen didn't know what to say. She hadn't even been introduced to the man yet. How does one explain that there was no real reason for her to be in the forest, just a deep calling she couldn't ignore. How could she explain to the headmaster that something terrible was on its way to the school without sounding absolutely batty? She knew she had to say something, anything to the man, but he wasn't just going to trust her to keep her word, not after everything her grandmother had done.

Not that she wanted to think about those times, every time she thought about them she couldn't help but shudder.

It had been bleak. Her grandmother, Morgan, had been one of the most influential banshees, coming from one of the original 11 of their kind. She had used her influence and power to create a horde of corrupt creatures who gained nothing except the terror of others and leaving piles of corpses in their wake. The worst mass death had been between 1665 and 1666, in London. Thousands of people had been killed in less than 18 months. Her grandmother had been at the very heart of that horrible act and Branwen wanted nothing more than to rid her blood of anything relating to that horrible woman. Morgan had finally been killed in 1916, at the Somme.  
Another one of Branwen's worst memories.

So, no. She could not blame the headmaster for wanting her out of the school as fast as possible. Or to possibly burn her to bits with Fiendfyre. That would be a grim but understandable fate for the young banshee.

Swallowing, she began, "Hello sir. My name is Branwen O'Braunigan, I don't think Remus said my name, so there it is."

"Ms.O'Braunigan, my name is Albus Dumbledore, though I suppose you already knew that." She nodded slightly, "I wish to welcome you to Hogwarts."

The dead silence continued once again.

So, instead of speaking about herself she began on neutral territory.

"I see you have a phoenix familiar," She began softly. "He is truly beautiful. It has been a long time since I have been graced with one of their songs."

"Yes, Fawkes is a marvelous companion. He does not sing for just anyone you know." Dumbledore responded, looking over to his feathered companion. Fawkes let out a soft trill of assent, ruffling his feathers in what looked to be pride.

Branwen smiled quietly, he was a very majestic bird, even if he could be a bit immature at times. He shot her a look at this thought and she withheld a chuckle.

_Impudent fluffball. _She shot over

_Flightless biped _He sniped back.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at this. He could hear, in a way, their banter and it truly shocked him. Neither of them were making their thoughts a secret. They had wanted him to know of their… friendship? This was odd, to say the least.

"Please sir," Branwen said aloud, "I didn't mean to come here. I don't want to bring anything to this school, it's a place of learning and security. It's a home to so many. I didn't even realize that I was close until I'd been with the centaurs for days. The shack came into view when I realized." She paused unsure of how to continue. But realizing that more secrecy would only harm her chances of getting any help from him.

"it's been many years since I've been back here Headmaster. More than I care to count. I hardly recognized the nearby village." She let out a broken chuckle. "The last time I saw it it was burning. I only knew the shack from what the centaurs had said."

Albus furrowed his brows. She appeared to be telling the truth. At least in this matter. But the fact that she, a banshee, had interacted with centaurs? Even lived with them? This was almost too much to believe. Like the unicorns, centaurs knew the purity of individuals through their star patterns. How they knew this, Albus had never learned, he had never been much good at astronomy.

But having them take her in, share their knowledge with her, was almost unthinkable for such a dark creature as she. The banshee, especially in Britain were known among scholars as those to avoid at all costs, a physical embodiment of imminent death.

But looking at the girl across from him, he felt nothing like that. An air of gentle benevolence echoed around her, her magic intertwining with the soft light she shed. Though shrouds of darkness were interwoven, down to her core. Though he could not use legilimency on her, he could read her magic. It was almost written on her skin if one knew where to look.

She had a deep vein of protectiveness. This was clear to him immediately, as it was the core thread around her magic. She had very powerful attack magic, though it was hidden underneath the protectiveness, looking more like barbed wire around her core than anything else.

Her work with runes was most prevalent, even to the south side. The silver aura was shimmering with Nordic runes, eihwaz and thurisaz swirling around her hands, kaunaz imprinted firmly above her head. Most other runes were swirling through her aura, but the one most absent was dagaz, the rune for joy. This girl lived without joy for so long she had forgotten what it felt like. Albus could tell that she was a very solitary creature, the only other magic around her was that of Hogwarts and Remus, faint as it was.

She was most unlike her grandmother, Albus considered, looking into her eyes once more, though trying no more to invade her mind.

"I believe that you are different than I thought you were. I apologize for my misconceptions, but it has been an age since there has been talk between wizards and banshee."

She smiled lightly, "that is perfectly understandable sir, my kind is not known for our trustworthiness. And knowing…Morgan, I do not blame you in the slightest. She was one of the foulest creatures I have known and I for one am very glad death ripped her from this life." She ended with such vehemence that Albus was struck again with her courage.

It had taken an incredible amount of bravery to come as far as she had, alone, to a school where she could easily have been persecuted upon arrival. Strength to help Mr. Lupin in his time of need and pain and will to admit any of this to him, of all people. She had put the cards in his hands so to speak, and he was now sure of what to do with them. At least what to offer the girl, if she could be called such.

He could, however, see that she would be unwilling to accept charity, as shown by her lack of shoes and clothing. She was not one to take things easily. He also could see that if she were to form a kind of bond with his students, they would be much safer. Her protective nature meant that if he could somehow manage to incorporate her into the school, she would be more willing to help him defend the students, at any cost.

Not that he wished her ill, of course not, he mused silently, still thinking. But if she cared, she would fight. And he needed more warriors.

He knew what to do for her, he decided and hiding his thoughts, smiled kindly at her.

"No, my dear, I do not believe that you are like your grandmother. And you are not the representative of your whole kind Ms. O'Brannigan, that would be entirely too much of a burden on you." He said, surprising Branwen. This made her cautious though.

_Why has he not asked me about myself or why I am here? He cannot simply trust me? It can't all be because of Fawkes, as pure as he is. _

Dumbledore continued, "I agree with Mr. Lupin. It would be far too dangerous for you to continue living alone in the forest."

She withheld a snort, "Sir, with all due respect, I am the true danger in the forest. We both know that."

He raised an eyebrow at her, though not in a mocking way.

"Ms. O'Braunigan, you are not the monster you think you are."

At this, she did snort, "I would beg to differ, Sir. I have-"

He held up a hand at this, "I did not mean that you are not capable of protecting yourself, nor that you are in any way helpless. I am not basing my assumptions about you on your past, but your present. You helped one of my students, who happens to be a werewolf, in one of his most vulnerable positions. You gave him a cloak and trusted him with your nature. This, as well as your apparent disdain towards your grandmother, shows me more about who you are rather than who you were, whoever that may have been."

Branwen was struck silent, feeling a prickle in her eyes, but held back the tears. No one, _no one has_ ever believed the good in her, or that there was any, to begin with. He was willing to disregard her past to focus on her present? With all of her horrors and scars? Well, she could at least try to do the same, damnit. She could be better. Be the halfway decent creature he saw in front of him.

"I wish you had come here under better circumstances, but I am sure you know the danger our world is facing now. I am not surprised that you came here, there is much danger brewing here, as much as I do to protect the school. Do not apologize for that," He continued, folding his hands on the desk between them.

"However, the main question remains. Now that you are here what would you like to do? I do not believe that we could incorporate you with the students, as that would be… unlikely to pass the school board. However, you do seem to know runes quite well." He continued eyes twinkling once again. "I am sure that we have a place for you as an assistant to our ancient runes professor, Professor Saive if that would be amenable to you."

_Damn, he has mage sight, I didn't think that was a trait among wizardkind anymore. No matter, I suppose- WAIT, a teacher? _

"Wait," she clenched her hands into fists beneath her robes convulsively, "I can just leave, I promise. You don't have to sully your school with the likes of me."

"Sully the school, Ms. O'Braunigan? Surely not." The headmaster exclaimed, "Why, do you believe the school is tainted by Mr. Lupin? He too is classified as a Dark Creature."

She barely restrained herself from leaping to her feet, "No! No, of course not! He is a good man and a pure soul! But I'm not like him, I will bring horrors." She trailed off.

"Ms. O'Braunigan. Please consider the offer." The headmaster continued softly, "I believe, with your knowledge and expertise, we could ward the school and protect it even better with your help. Never mind the fact that you could be much more comfortable within these walls rather than out in the forest."

She considered the offer in silicene.

_I've always wanted to teach… Maybe… maybe he could hide my nature? A glamour? I could just help the students, and maybe I could... No. I would just teach and keep to myself. _

_He has a point, _she noted, _my knowledge could help everyone, not just Remus. But would he even accept my help? How would he feel knowing that I could kill any of them with a snap of my fingers…_

_You blithering idiot you're just making excuses to stay lonely. _A trilling voice interrupted her thought process. She snapped her gaze to Fawkes.

_Accept, old one. You will be glad of it. You will teach and you will be among friends. And I'll light myself on fire if you don't. _Fawkes straightened and ruffled his feathers as if preparing to make his last stand.

_You always light yourself on fire Bird Brain, _she grumbled.

_So you'll accept then? _The bird coaxed

"Yes. I will accept your offer, Headmaster. Thank you, for… everything." she said aloud, almost whispering.

"Please my dear, as you will be a staff member, or close to it, call me Albus." He said kindly, the twinkle in his eyes back.


End file.
